"Stay five minutes, while I send Tom Allen to summon My Lady. Her honour," he whispered, glancing towards Donna Rusidda, after the good Tom had gone, "is in our joint keeping; and," he added aloud, "you love her--that I have seen." "I love her, and worship her, my Lord." "And Princess, I may take it that you love him?" "Alas, no, my Lord; though I owe him the greatest debt of gratitude which a woman can owe a man." The Admiral seemed dumbfounded. "You will learn to love him, Princess: he has excellent prospects." "I do love him, my Lord; but I do not and cannot ever love him as a husband or a lover. I love him," she continued, with a sweet light of gratitude shining from her eyes, "as the finest gentleman I have ever met." The conversation was broken into by the apparition of My Lady, lovely with rosy cheeks and sleepy eyes. It was evident that she had been roused from her slumber, but she was angelically good-tempered over it. "You want me, Nelson? Why, Donna Rusidda!" "Princess Lion-Heart has brought us grave news from the Palace. She ran, and by herself; and I am just sending Will here to the boats for help." Will left as the Admiral was going over the ground for the third time. Donna Rusidda crossed over to the door, and the Admiral and My Lady were looking out to sea, as she poured out her gratitude to Will in one long kiss, and commended his dear life to the care of Santa Rosalia, whose kindly little lead image she took off her own neck and hung round his. For what happened after Will's departure I must depend once more upon the Admiral's Journal; and the way in which it fills up the gaps is nothing short of marvellous, if it were not the work of the Admiral's own hand. _Extract from the Admiral's Journal, Dec. 20th, 1798._ "What a delicately adjusted machine is woman, sensitive to every breath! Having great hopes of the Princess of Favara and Will making a match of it--for she clearly is very well disposed to him, though she refused to admit that she loved him--I had withdrawn to the far end of the apartment when my young lover was about to take his adieux before departing on his perilous mission. I was about to call dear Emma, but she anticipated me by running in front of me to the window. As I went I was curious enough to steal a glance at the Princess, to see what hope there was for Will. From which I augured well. She was more than gracious, she was tender and solicitous, as gentle a piece of girlhood as one could picture. But, when Will went, she came back into the room with trailing robes and haughtily carried chin, as self-possessed as Her Majesty herself, who is most royal.